Behind Closed Doors
by TillThatTime
Summary: It always feels so right to be so wrong when you are behind closed doors. Twincest. I'm not forcing you to read. So, if you don't like it you can't blame me if you actually read it.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own High School Musical, but I find it amusing to corrupt the characters.

**A/N: **I've been sick but my other story's next chapter should be up tomorrow. Oh and big news, FallingWithGrace (AKA MissLovely) and I will be co-writing together! So excited! Ok, this is a controversial subject and I know that I am going to get at least one flame, and probably end up going to hell, but it came to me in theatre class and I just had to write it. So I hope you enjoy, and as for flames….BRING EM' ON!

**Warning!** Incest lies ahead.

**BEHIND CLOSED DOORS **

He always washes his hands afterwards. Perhaps if he does they will be clean again. _He _will be clean again. At least untilthe next time his hands are soiled. His fingers are the problem. They like to touch what doesn't belong to him. What shouldn't _ever_ belong to him, but he can't control his hands as he buries them in her blonde hair. _his _hair.

No not his. Nothing of hers would ever truly be his, but she lets him touch her anyways. She gives him the illusion that he owns her and perhaps in that respect he does, because when his lips find the soft skin on her collarbone it's his name that slips from her beautiful tongue.

It's so easy to keep it from the parents. Just quick little excuses after dinner or during parties. "We have to rehearse." and "Don't you want us to be good?" Those lines are perhaps rehearsed more than anything else.

_What do you think of this father? _As his fingers trace little designs of the sensitive skin of her naval.

_Aren't you proud mom? _As he roughly pulls up her cute little skirt.

It's so easy. So fucking easy to suppress little giggles behind their expensive oak doors. They can sing their songs through quiet curses. They can practice their dance numbers with their sinful hands and tongues. She's the cold bitch of the school yet when she is pressed against his door she is anything but cold under his lips.

They'll keep up their appearances in the hallways. She is the leader, the dictator, and he is just the lap dog that is more than happy to scurry along, but out of the public's eye she is always the one to give into submission. Always the one to look up at him and plead. He lets he have her dominance in school and her lust behind closed doors.

He knows jealousy all too well however. He watches through narrowed eyes as her lovely hands lace around Zeke's neck or how her body sways to draw the attention of the male student body. She doesn't do it to hurt him, just to tease him until he can't help but given in, pull her into an empty class room and hoist her onto a desk. It would be so easy to get caught like that and that only serves to feed his hunger.

It wont always go on like this though. One day the _will_ get caught. Or their guilt will finally catch up to them and it will all stop. Yet, even when it does he will continue to love her. He will continue to play out his fantasies in his dreams and occasionally her name will slip from his lips as he holds onto another girl. No one else will ever be as good for him.

He remembers the first time he took her. She had tears streaming down her pale cheeks as her perfectly manicured nails raked along his back. She had arched under him and in all his life he had sworn he had never seen anything so beautiful. So beautiful that he has to bite down on her pink glossy lips to stop his own overwhelming cries.

Yes, someday it would all end, but he will always be her first. He had branded what wasn't rightfully and morally his and she had willingly let him. "Think of it as a family gift" he often finds himself whispering in her ear.

It's Friday night and he's home late from his date…..Rachel, he thinks her name was. He opens the door to his room and finds her laying across his blue sheets. She's wearing his bathrobe and he can smell her coconut shampoo from where he stands. A shiver runs along his spine. She's been waiting for him.

"Hey sis." He says softly as he closes the door behind him. It will always feel right to be so wrong when you're behind closed doors.


	2. Simple

**Disclaimer: **don't own any of it…………yet……muwhahahaha

**Special thanks to: **

Song Birdy  


mordechaimalachai  


x0sharpay0x

XoZac-EfronOx

ZACxTROYxLOVER  


spacekitten 

ANoRDaE

mannybaby

Braids21

urockon

King of Kings  


sharpayxevans

Gorilla22

ZacEfronLuver

Mondler4EvEr

**A/N:** So, I wasn't going to continue this, but I'm bored, soI decided to write more Once again this story is rated mature, so if you aren't mature don't read it, wow, funny how that works, huh? It's ok the flame me because flames are funny, but if you are going to do it, be ballsy enough to not do it anonymously. Thank you to all my beautiful reviewers! Much Love!

**Warning: Twincest ……..psh, as if you didn't know.**

* * *

**Simple**

He was watching her from the corner of his eye as he brought the expensive crystal glass up to his lips. His eyes lingered on her features as her lips parted slightly as she listened attentively to the story that their mother was telling at the table, and he focused on the way that she threw her head back as she laughed, her blonde hair sprawling behind her shoulders and down her back.

It wasn't long before she caught sight of him watching her and for the first time that night, the forced smile that had been playing on her beautiful lips, turned into a real one. She could never escape his glances. They were the type of looks that no child should have the pleasure of receiving or giving. They were the type of stares that started at the base of your stomach and grew until there was nothing left of you, except what that person saw. He undressed her with his eyes. He captivated her with his stares, and he owned her in one glance. She was no child.

Their father had begun some witty satire on the bases of politics and the people who surrounded them were wild with laughter and wine. They had learned to laugh when it was necessary. They had learned to fiend attention during parties. They had learned, because without learning there would be mistakes, and there was no room for mistakes when it came to them.

He felt his father pat him roughly on the back as he began to tell his guests what a fantastic young man he was raising. Ryan could barely keep down the bitter laughter that threatened to rise as he acknowledged the fact that his father only praised his son when there were people to impress. His fathers words of confidence would have upset him if it weren't for a pair a lovely brown eyes that he found more interesting. She kept her eyes planted on him without fear of notice, for they were children in the eyes of the people surrounding them, and they bore no importance.

They were both completely, for lack of a better word, fucked up, but what would one expect when parents don't pay attention to how their children are growing up. In late nights of parties and vacations they found comfort in each other because there was no other place to look. _Congratulations are in order mom and dad, aren't you proud? _

His mother had begun to speak, some mindless toast of some sort, and as Ryan raised his glass his fingers brushed against the top of hers as their glasses crashed together. Her eyebrows raised and a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. It wasn't long before he felt the tips of her toes creeping up the side of his leg. He gulped slightly at the contact and for some reason his clothing began to feel constricting and binding. He looked at her and shot her a glare for having this effect on him and the devilish smirk that graced her features only widened. He cleared his throat and his mother turned to face him.

"Sharpay, don't we have to work on that dance number so we can have it ready for Mrs. Drabus by Monday?"

"I'm sure it can wait, Ryan." Sharpay said as she bit her lip to hide the smirk. He looked at her sharply and one look said it all_. No more games Sharpay. _"But practice does make perfect. So if we may be excused mother."

Even before their mother gave them the "ok" they walked out of the expensive dining room. Sharpay had barely shut the door to his room before he had her pressed against his light green walls.

"Why must you be so difficult?" He asked quietly as he brought her wrists slowly over her head. His face was just inches from hers and she could feel his warm, mint breath tickling her skin.

"Just part of my charm I guess." she said in a smug voice that was barely above a whisper.

"Now see, that is why people refer to you as Ice Bitch, because you're just too smug." He scolded her. Her expression turned to mock hurt and he laughed at her quietly as he brought his lips up to her ear. "But don't worry, I find your charm intoxicating." And his closeness sent shivers racing down her spine. He held her wrists in one hand and the other laced around her neck, his fingers tangling themselves in her mass of blonde hair. His fingers traced little nonsense designs on the back of her neck and her head arched up slightly and a smile formed on her lips. She was beautiful to look at and heavenly to feel, but who would have ever guessed that the 'Ice Queen' could be manipulated by her lap dogs touch?

He brought his lips to the delicately pale skin of her neck and his teeth grazed her there. He was careful not to leave a mark. He never did. Even without looking at her, he knew that her eyes were shut and she was biting down on those glossy pink lips of hers. His hand left her neck and found rest on her hip, he pulled her closer to him and she squeaked slightly at the sudden movement. He left small kisses on her neck and collar bone and for as long as he could, he avoided her lips. Ryan held the theory in his mind that a kiss was the bases of truth and this was a particular truth that he was never too thrilled about discovering. So he would always hold off kissing her until finally she would grab him by the chin to face her and her eyes would plead to him, and there was no more denying the truth. He would do anything for her. Ryan Evans was in love with his sister, and by God may he be damned.

They made no promises to each other. As they held each other at night, he never insisted that it would never end. She never told him that she would never love another man. They just would lay there in their sin of utter comfort and Ryan would repeat the words, _so wrong, so wrong, _in his head until, like most words, they held no more meaning in his world of gray, were it's not as simple as black and white.


	3. Jealousy

**Disclaimer: **If I owned this, I would probably not being writing fan fiction, instead I would be riding around in one of my numerous, fancy-smancy sports cars….but alas, no sports cars….shucks…..

**A/N: **Thanks to the reviews, they were wonderful!

**Special Thanks to:**

FallenforFallOutBoy  


wendy  


SangoGrl64  


gorilla22  


mordechaimalachai  


shistarlet

x0sharpay0x

Mondler4EvEr

**

* * *

**

**Jealousy**

Another day at school. Another Tuesday of eight hours of notes and books and tests. Thousands upon thousands of seconds of "What year.." and "Who said this…" and he's angry through it all. So angry because he can't seem to keep from being angry and that only seems to frustrate him more.

She stands there by her locker. Her skirt set perfectly against her hips and an expensive name brand shirt covering those breasts that he's seen so many sleepless nights before. Her hair falls in sun golden curls down her back and her glossed lips are pursed into a trade mark pout that she would never dare try to use on him. It's such a mirror of perfection that he wants to judge the reality of it all, and he wants to dare anything else to even try to rival her. She is standing by her locker and _he _is standing there with her.

And he's so angry and he's so jealous, and he's so _sick _because he's so angry and jealous. He watches from afar as the boy standing so close to her laces an arm around he slender waist.

"Zeke, come on baby, not right now." Her voice is somewhat playful but Ryan can tell that beneath her cute tone her words are serious. Zeke doesn't catch on at all. He continues to pull Sharpay against him and Ryan's fist begin to curl involuntarily.

"I mean it, Zeke." Her words are a bit stronger but not strong enough, and he wonders why she doesn't retaliate harder. She's the Ice Queen. The leader. The domination over everyone who stands in her way, and fuck, why doesn't she try a little bit harder?

Zeke takes hold of her chin, an idiotic grin plastered on his features, and begins to pull her face up to kiss her. And he doesn't seem to realize that she doesn't want this, that she couldn't possible want _him. _

"Stop, Zeke." And Ryan tells himself to stop. He screams over and over again in his head to keep his feet from moving. To keep his fist from clenching. To keep this from happening, because nothing good could come of it, but his mind doesn't seem to work anymore. He cannot seem to listen to his own pleas of 'Don't do this' as he makes his way over to Zeke and Sharpay and in one quick movement connects his fist in Zeke's jaw.

He's never punched anybody before and it hurts. His hand hurts and his mind hurts and he wants to shut out the world because he didn't mean to do it. He hurt her more by trying to save her, and the consequences of his actions is lying there on the school floor with a bloodied nose.

He's sent home early that day and finds himself suspended for a week, because there's no fighting in school. There's now trying defend your sister because you're so fucking jealous that all rationality is thrown out of your mind, out of the window, and off the face of the earth.

She comes into his room without so much as a knock. Not that he would ever expect one from her. Her usually perfect hair is matted around her neck and her face is flushed, and now it's her turn to be angry. It's her turn to be so furious that nothing else seems to matter.

"Why in the hell did you do that?" She screams at him and they both silently thank God that their parents aren't home.

"You didn't want him to touch you." He answers back. His voice is calm and he doesn't move from the position that he has found so comforting on his bed.

"That doesn't matter! You can't do this Ryan. You can't be my protector! God, how could you do this?"

He wants to be calm, because one of them needs to be calm. He wants to tell her that he's sorry, that he never meant to do it. But Ryan Evans wants a lot of things.

"Because _I _didn't want him to touch you !" He bursts out quite suddenly. He scares her and he scares himself. "Because I can't stand to see him touch you. Because I can't stand to see _anyone _touch you. Because you're supposed to be mine….because you're supposed to want me and only _me._"

He watches as her face falls. He watches as she wilts in front him and acknowledges the sickening truth that his words have hurt her. He wishes to take them back, to take _everything _back. But Ryan Evans wishes for a lot of things.

"You promised." He voice is soft and her eyes glisten with tears that threaten to fall like the lies that have corrupted their lives for years. "You promised me this wouldn't happen. You promised me that you'd never be jealous. You promised that nothing we ever did together would bind us. You promised me that there would be no promises, Ryan."

And he knows. He knows that the rule of there sick, little game was that there was never supposed to be rules at all. He knows it all so fucking much, but when blonde hair starts to haunt his dreams, when soft hands is something that he can never seem to escape in his mind, when he feels that he can never truly get enough of her, that's when he begins to lose control. "I did promise, Sharpay. But you've ruined me. You've taken everything from me until all that is left is you, and I can't watch as they touch you. I can't watch as they kiss you. Because I know that I love you Sharpay. Because I know that no one will ever be good enough after you. Because I know that you will _never _love someone as much as you love me."

She's crying now, and he's sorry. He's _so _sorry, but she needed to know, and he needed to tell her. He runs to hold her, and she lets him. He whispers little words of comfort in her ear and she lets him. He kisses those lips that have cursed him for good and she lets him, and for one more night to add on to the dozens that have been in the past, he lays her on his bed to continue to play the devils game, and she lets him. Because no one will ever be as good. No one will ever care as much, and no one could ever possibly understand this language that they have built through their bodies for them and only them.


	4. Nightmares

Disclaimer: Yeah, don't own…eh, it's probably for the best.

A/N: So I haven't written in a while, but eh, I had the urge. So here you go……

Warning: Yada yada, Twincest, blah blah

* * *

**Nightmares**

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

The clock sounds somewhere in the darkness of the room, only registering to those who care to listen. Her shallow breath seeps into his ears from where she lays against him, her hair falling loosely across his bare chest and her fingers clutching the bed sheets beneath them.

It's a nightmare.

The way her body begins to shake, and the calmness of her breath is replaced by soft whimpers and cries for solace.

She's having a nightmare.

He runs the tips of his fingers across the skin of her forehead, and feels the sweat that is now left on them. A melody to a song that he scarcely remembers and would never forget ghosts from his lips to fill the room with her cries and his song. He holds her closer, trying to comfort her trembling, and a battle rages in his mind on whether or not he should wake her.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

Her breathing becomes more labored and her whimpers more desperate. She clutches to him, her fingernails scratching across his chest, he holds back a groan as he feels the sting that is left by them. He watches as she tosses back and forth, her features full of a pain he could not even begin to name. She cries out then. One word. One vocalization of desperation.

"Ryan"

That's enough for him.

"Sharpay, wake up. It's ok, I'm here." Her eyes flutter open at the sound of his voice and she let's out a strangled sob. The tears fall freely from her haunted eyes and he hates to see her cry. He pulls her to him and she buries her face against the crook of his neck, he feels the wetness from her tears as her continues to hum the same tune.

"You have a beautiful voice." Her voice is muffled and he barley hears her, but he feels the warm breath from her words dance across his skin, and he can't help the shiver that runs along his spine. She pulls away slightly to look up into his face, her hair is matted against her forehead and her eyes are swollen from tears. And she's absolutely beautiful. "Have I ever told you that, Ryan?"

"You might have mentioned something along those lines when you were screaming at me to get my ass in gear." He whispers, his amusement evident in his tone. She lets out a small laugh, but it's frail even against her own ears.

"Well you do. I think it's my favorite sound in the world."

"Is that so? Huh, in all this time I thought Jesse McCartney held that great honor." It's a joke. It's meant to be funny. So why does she cry instead?

"Sharpay? Sharpay, I'm sorry, I was just kidding." His voice is stressed with concern. He doesn't know what he did wrong. He doesn't understand why the tears continue to fall and her body continues to shake. "Please, I'm sorr-"

"You left me." She yells out suddenly, her words getting caught in her throat and coming out strained.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._

"What?" He doesn't understand the meaning of her words. He's right here. She's pressed up against him. He hasn't left.

"In the dream, you left me." Her bottom lip trembles and she looks him in the eyes, her own are pleading. For comfort? For solitude? For everything? He leans forward, catching her bottom lip in between his own. His tongue runs along the bottom of her lip and she tastes of sweat and tears, and God, of everything he could ever want. He pulls away from her slowly, savoring the taste. "You left me." She repeats again and he places his hands on either side of her face firmly, forcing her to look at him.

"How could I?" He shakes his head slowly, the thought sounding so irrational in his head that he tries to force it out. "How could I, when you're-you're everything I want. Everything I need. Sharpay, the singing, the performing, it doesn't matter. Only you…..only you." Her tears continue to spill out over his hands.

"God, Ryan, it could never work. I would never work for us. Not here."

"Then we'll leave, Sharpay. It doesn't matter where."

"But-"

"All I want is you."

He leans forward again, slipping the thin material of her nightgown off her slim shoulder. He presses his lips against the smoothness that is his Sharpay, and inhales deeply, her scent filling his nostrils. "Beautiful" he whispers, his lips ghosting across her skin. He feels the shiver that runs along her body and he clutches her waist in his hand, pulling her firmly against him. Molding her body to his own, trying with all his might to make her see that his words are true.

He wonders how long ago it was that he stopped seeing his sister and started seeing beauty in the form of the woman he loves. He wonders when he stopped feeling guilty as he touched her and caressed her. He wonders when the sound his name slipping off her tongue became the most beautiful sound in the world. He wonders how nothing else in the world could matter to him except for her. He wonders.

He feels her place her lips against his neck and he can't help the tear that finally slips from his own eye. He knows they will never run away together. He finds it ridiculous that he places hope on a dream that will never come true. He also finds it ridiculous that she would actually ever believe that he would leave her. It was never a matter of him breaking her heart. It was never a matter of her having to watch as he walked away. Because in the end, Ryan Evans always knew who would be the one to leave in the end.

It was only a matter of time.

_Tick. Tick. Tick._


End file.
